Deeper Down
by KenzieLovesPancakes
Summary: Damian is acting strangely. Nobody got the hint until it landed Damian in the hospital. Bruce has to deal with CPS, Talia, and Damian's own mind to try to get some answers. Updated!
1. Blame

Damian yawned as he stretched out his stiff limbs. He felt his back curl until it popped; relaxation spread through his whole back. After tightening his muscles, he sank back into his soft comforter with a calm, relaxing feeling. The sunlight peered through the windows. He felt the warmth touch his face while his mind was on the brinck of unconsciousness. With a little sigh of pleasure he crossed the line of consciousness and fell back asle-

"DAMIAN! WHERE DID YOU HIDE MY PSYCHICS BOOK!"

"Damian's eyes shot wide open, all relaxation disappeared. Tim bounded through the door, slamming it behind him.

"YOU DEMON CHILD, I KNOW YOU TOOK IT!" Tim screamed at the top of his lungs.

Damian slowly rose into a sitting position.

He mumbled, "Get out of my room before I kill you Drake."

"NO! I know you took it! You always mess with me. Not this time! WHERE IS IT!"

"Stupid imbecile. I didn't take it." Damian glared into Tim's eyes.

"Ohhhhh... so funny! WHERE IS IT BEFORE I TELL BRUCE!" Tim's face became flushed with anger.

"Tt. I'm not dealing with your shit this early in the morning." Damian continued to glare at him until a smile slowly found its way to Tim's face.

"Okay." Tim said calmly. "See you at breakfast." And promptly left with a swing in his walk.

"DRAKE SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU TATTLE ON ME!" But Damian knew it was pointless. He gave a huge sigh and rubbed his hand through his hair. Today was going to be awful.

Quickly rising to avoid getting into another heated argument with his Father, he immediately went downstairs. He jogged to his father's study only to find it empty. No laptop was sitting on the desk.

 _Ha! He's not home. Try to tattle on me now Drake!_  
But soon Damian gave another sigh. He didn't want Tim to be mad at him and get into a fight. So with his shoulders slouched, he was off to find the missing item.

His first location was the living room. Looking under the newspaper, he found a heavy text book with miscellaneous papers sticking every which way. Picking it up he went to the front door, only to find that Tim's backpack was sitting next to his shoes. He slipped it inside the bag right before Tim entered the entry way.

"Tim glared at him while he slung his backpack over his shoulder; his silence was his way of showing his anger. Childish, Damian thought. Only to prove his point Tim slammed the door behind him while Damian rolled his eyes.


	2. Before Judgement

With Tim finally gone, Damian relaxed his shoulders he didn't know he had hunched up. He gave another large sigh, something he has been doing more frequently now. Then he gave another one.

Today was his last day to have the house all by himself until summer vacation started. Summer vacation for the rest of his family started tomorrow. He gave a little chuckle. Tim had to go to school while he got to stay home because his vacation started today and not tomorrow like Tim's.

He gave a quick glance at the time.

6:45 A.M.

With that note he made his way back to his bedroom.

 _Why does Drake always act like he's on his period?_ Damian moaned out load. He was going to have to spend all summer with him.

Pushing those thoughts away, he crawled into his warm bed. He once again let himself relax and gently closed his eyes. Before he knew it he was asleep.

XxXXxX

His mind slowly came back to him. Damian fluttered his eyes until they open completely, not feeling as relaxed as this morning. He gave a quick glance at the clock.

 _Great. 11. I must have been tired. Well, at least I have the house to myself for a couple more hours._

Damian stopped. He didn't want to continue to think about what will happen after his family came back home. This was indeed a rare occasion, for even Alfred was not home.

Pushing himself out of bed, he silently vowed to make the best out of it. After a workout session and a shower, Damain found himself out on the back porch reading a book Leslie had bought him for his birthday last year.

He felt the gentle breeze go through his hair, the warmth of the Sun just the right temperature to relax his face. In the distance some birds sang a song of freedom as the flew over the wall thst surrounded the Manor.

"Master Damian."

Damian jumped. He hadn't realized that Alfred was behind him.

"Yes Pennyworth?"

"Your Father requests you in his study." Alfred gave Damian a disapointed frown while Damain clenched his fists.

 _Crap._


	3. Listen

_Damnit! Really Drake? You told Father?_

Damian hadn't realized how much time must have pasted if both Tim and his Father was home. He simply rose from his seat and puffed out his chest as he went past Alfred; the butler's eyes followed Damian's back but Damain couldn't tell what had flashed through the old man's eyes. He gave another enormous sigh.

If Dick had gotten in trouble, we all know Bruce would forgive him. Dick would pull out his puppy eyes that Bruce could never say no to and they would hug it out.

 _Damn him and his puppy eyes._ They always work on Bruce...

 _Maybe I should try that some day...Nah. It would never work._

If Tim had gotten in trouble, Bruce would have been concerned and probably talk to him. Then they would read together or do Physics.

Damian stopped in the middle of the hall.

He paused.

 _If I had gotten in trouble, Father would scold me. We would fight and then I would get grounded. I'm so done fighting. Why can't we just talk it out like he does with his 'sons'._

His face turned down into a frown.

 _Why can't he love me like his sons? Why can't he come to my events instead of Tim's damn chess tournaments...Why can't he give me that small smile he always gives his... his... sons._

A demon inside his mind spoke. **Because he doesn't love you.**

 _No,_ Damian countered, _He must lov-show some affection to me. He does let me live here._

 ** _Ha! That's what you think. He doesn't love you. He is stuck with you! Your mother doesn't want a killing machine so why should he? He doesn't love you. He just doesn't. He loves his other sons better._**

 _No._

 ** _Yes. He loves them more than you. Your brothers hate you. He would rather have you dead. He cares about Dick and Tim like they're his own sons, but aren't you his biological son? Yet he shows you no affection. He buys Dick and Tim presents. He goes to their events. He cares about what they are doing in life. Has he ever asked you how your day at school went?_**

 _...No, maybe once kor twice._

 ** _Just to trick you. Make you think he cares but-_**

 ** _"_** Damain!"

"Coming!" He replied as his make quick steps to the study.

 _ **I will be back.**_

In record tim he reached the study. It's ancient frame overwhelmed him at times, like right now. It made him feel small. So...weak compared to it.

Before Damian could knock, "Enter."

Damian gave a sigh. _I don't want to argue with him._

Giving a gentle shove, the pushed both oak doors to enter. He walked in the middle of the room and crossed his arms trying to give his best I'm-not-interested face. His eyes scaned the room.

A very tired Bruce Wayne sat at the only desk in the room; the summer breeze sang while the curtain danced in rhythm, almost touching the desk.

Tim sat on the only sofa; a grin across his face. Damain's fists clenched together.

 _Smart-ass._

"Damian, you have 30 seconds to explain yourself." His Father's glare pierced through his eyes and seemed to found his heart when it missed a beat

 _Should I even waste time explaining myself?_

"Well, I woke up this morning and Tim was like screaming at me. I apparently took his physics book which I didn't-"

Tim snorted.

"and he always accuses me-"

"15 seconds left."

"Of things I didn't do-"

"Yeah right," Tim muttered under his breath.

"OH MY GOD. Stop! Stop interrupting me. Like I was saying-"

"5 seconds left "

Damian stopoed and shook his head. Why even try, they don't care.

"Time," as Bruce looked up from his watch.

"Damian, why don't you stop acting like a child-"

"What?! Me! Acting like a child?!"

"and give Tim his book back-"

"I never even took it!"

"and apologize."

"No! He left his goddamn book on the coffe table this morning!"

"No," Tim quickky intervened. " He took it!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"NO!"

"YES!"

"ENOUGH!" Bruces hands clenched the edge of the table.

"Tim," he said in a sweet voice. _No, that's his Bruce Wayne voice._ "Leave "

"Okay," he said, getting up. "I'm sorry to bother you."

"Not at all."

Damian rolled his eyes. Once the door was closed, Damian felt his Fathers glare.

"What is wrong with you? God, I dont even-"

 _Yeah. He talks to me with his Batman voice while his 'sons' get Bruce Wayne._

Damian gave a sigh. He tuned his father out.

 _Why should I even try? He never listens to me and Tim gets away with shit like this. All the time. I feel...numb. Like nothing can bother me. Is this normal? No way in Hell I can talk to him about it. I wish...I wish he we could just talk...not a one sided conversation._

"Are you even listening?!"

"Yes!"

"Well!"

"Well what?"

 _"_ You aren't even listening! Why do you do stupid stunts like this? You want to be treated like an adult yet you act like a child! Maybe if you acted like you were adult, 'act' like an adult you would be treated like on!"

"This isn't about me-"

"Yes this is about you! You are out of control! Why don't you stop acting so pathetic-"

 _...pathetic?_

 _Pathetic?_

 _PATHETIC?!_

"and-"

"PATHETIC? I'm PATHETIC BECAUSE RIGHT NOW IT'S EVERYONE ELSE THAT IS BEING PATHETIC! I'VE TRIED TO BEHAVE BUT EVERYTHING IS BLAMED ON ME! Ohh.. shit hit the fan! IT MUST HAVE BEEN DAMIAN! Always my fault! WHY CAN'T YOU JUST LISTEN TO ME FOR ONE MINUTE BECAUSE IF YOU DID WE WOULDN'T BE HAVING THIS CONVERSATION!"

"DO NOT TALK TO ME LIKE THAT YOUNG MAN!"

"YEAH! I CAN SO WHATEVER THE FUCK I WANT!"

"DAMIAN!"

"WHAT? IT'S NOT LIKE YOU CARE! Pathetic! PATHETIC?! IF I'M PATHETIC YOU'RE LOWER THAN THAT. Ha! YOU SAY YOU HELP PEOPLE BUT YOU DON'T! YOU ONLY CARE ABOUT YOURSELF"

"I DO NOT!"

"YES IT'S TRUE! MAYBE IF PEOPLE GOT TO GET TO KNOW THE REAL YOU THE WOULDN'T THINK YOUR SUCH A NICE PERSON AFTER ALL-"

Damian saw it coming but didn't believe it.

It all happened in slow motion. Bruce's hand colliding with his face. The loud crack. The taste of bitter iron in his mouth. Another crash. Sharp pain as his back impaled with the coffe table. The splinters of wood floating around him until he was staring at the ceiling.

For Bruce, it went all to fast. One second he was standing strong and tall, the next he was on the ground with blood dripping out of his mouth.

"...Damian..."

Damian slowly got up. He wiped the blood off with the back of his hand and stared at the ground.

"...Damian...?"

He made his way to the door and quickly left while Bruce stared at the now broken coffee table.


	4. Voices with lies

"My word!" exclaimed Alfred as he entered. His eye's scan the broken coffee table and then his sons face, only to become more confused.

"Master Bruce? What has happened?" He searched for his eyes, only to find Bruce staring at the coffee table remaining silent.

"Ding Dong! Knock, knock, knock!" Alfred turned quickly. _Who could possibly be here?,_ he thought.

Making his way to the front door he found Tim already there but hasn't opened the door. Tim's eyes were wide and he took a couple steps back in fear. Alfred only became more confused. _What is going on?_

He opened the door to his worst nightmare.

The man wore a light jacket with nice black dress pants and shiny black shoes. The most alarming thing about him was the letters near his left pocket.

 **C.P.S.**

"Hello sir. What can I help you with?" Alfred tried to make his voice as calm and casual as possible.

"I'm here to speak to Bruce Wayne. Is he in?" The man spoke with a slight accent.

"Yes. Why don't you come in?" He gestured with his arm as the man stepped in. Alfred took his coat as he spoke. "I can show you to the stud- living room and he will meet you there shortly."

The man nodded in response. Alfred scanned the man once again. _Why is he here? Inspection shouldn't be for three more weeks. This is a very odd day._ Finding nothing out of the ordinary, he lead him to the living room; Tim stared at him from a distance, his eyes still wide in fear.

XxxXxxX

Damian made his way to his room slowly. He dragged his feet up the stairs until he made it to the top, where he took his hand away from the railing, when he fell over. Shaking his head, he stood up and grabbed the railing. His head was pounding. He could hear his blood in his head it was distracting and annoying.

"...don't you come in? I can show you to the stud-living room and he will meet you there shortly." He watched Alfred take the man past the stairs. He made eye contact with the man until he saw his eyes lower to his face. Damian quickly turned his head away.

Out of the corner of his eye he watched him enter the living room and soon found Tim slowly following them.

 _Odd. Is Drake ignoring me or did he not see me. Imbecile._

"Tt."

But, a good idea. He also wanted to know what was going to be said before he was going to have to come in. That's how it normally goes. They talk to the guardian and then the children. So, he slowly started to make his way down the stairs. It took him a lot longer than normal when he reached the bottom. His breathing was labored and he hear his heartbeat even louder. He didn't think that was even possible.

Using the wall as support he slowly made his way to the living room. Before he got close to the door he could hear the conversation.

 _Did Pennyworth forget to shut the door? Where is Drake? Already in the room? No...He can't. Not yet a least._

"...making dinner while you two talk. Is that alright Master Bruce?"

"Of course."

"Then I will bring in some tea in a couple of minutes. Excuse me sirs. "

 _Crap!_ Damian franticly looked around. No where to hide.

Alfred stepped out of the door to freeze where he stood. His eyes made his way to his face.

"Master Damian, why don't you join me in the kitchen for a moment?" Damian looked up at him, not completely understanding what was being said.

"What?" He replied.

"Why don't we start with your youngest. Damian... right?" The man spoke from the living room.

"Well, why don't we start with Tim because...Damian is asleep right now. He was feeling under the weather."

"I saw him near the railing, he must be awake unless he was sleep walking?"

Damian looked up at Alfred when he crouched down to his level. He put his hand on Damian's shoulder.

"Master Damian," he whispered, "I need you to-"

"Damian!" His Father called. "Come here now!" Alfred shook his head in disappointment. When Damian looked up he saw Alfred looking into his eyes, searching for something. Alfred then got up to go to the kitchen while looking over his shoulder.

"Damian!"

"Coming!" Yelling made his head hurt more.

 ** _You can get back at him...Now is the time._**

 _Shut up!"_

 ** _Trust me! You don't need any of them. None of them. You should do exactly what I say and I can fix this for you. You would-_**

"DAMIAN!"

Damian entered the living room. He saw his Father tug at his tie, loosening it. The man and him made eye contact and stared.

"Damian," his Father said gently. "This is Mr. Foley. He is a international C.P.S. representative." He said nothing as he continued to stare down Mr. Foley.

"Haha," Bruce slowly laughed. "Say hello Damian." He gritted through his teeth.

Damian sighed.

"Hello Mr. Foley. It is very...nice to be in your acquaintance." He slowly walked up to the man and held out his hand. They shook hands while Alfred walked back in with a tray.

"Please sit down..."

"Damian."

"Damian," he concluded.

Damian nodded. Bruce stared at Damian, giving him a don't-screw-this-up face.

"Mr. Foley," Bruce said with a smile, bring Mr. Foley's attention to himself. "International? That must be a big responsibility."

"What happened to your face young man?" Mr. Foley said as he turned away from Bruce.

Damian looked back at Bruce but he gave him no help. Damian sighed.

"I fell."

"On your face?"

"Off my bike."

"Oh really?"

"Yes."

"Care to explain?"

Bruce looked at Alfred with a face of discomfort while Alfred handed out the Tea. Their conversation was going very fast, no pausing in-between speakers. No doubt not helping anything or anyone.

"Yes."

"Proceed."

"Damian," Bruce interrupted, "Was riding his bike-"

"I want Damian to explain. Let him have a voice or do you not normally let him talk?"

Bruce was starting to hate his guy.

"Of course he can talk whenever he feels like it-"

"Most children his age don't get that opportunity. Parents do all the talking. That means if they do all the talking the child doesn't. The parents or guardians talk, blame, and punish. They talk without the child having a chance which increasing the chance of the child having social and trust issues. This can lead to things like depression and other health conditions-"

"That is not the case here-"

"Damian," Mr. Foley interrupted, "What do you do in your free time?"

It took a moment for him to answer.

"I like to draw."

"Draw?"

"Yes."

"Like...?"

"Animals...and...people...and," Damian stuttered.

"Alone?"

"Excuse me?"

"Do you draw alone. For example in your room?"

"Sometimes."

 _Crap._

"Explain."

"Well...-"

"He," Bruce interrupted, "Draws in many different place with many different people-"

"Can you leave the room?"

"Excuse me?" Bruce looked confused.

"Can you leave the room?" Mr. Foley repeated.

 _No...Father don't leave._

 ** _Let him leave. This is your chance._**

"Why do I have to leave? I have always been allowed to be in the room."

"Which obviously is not working anymore."

 _I need to do something._

 ** _Why? Left him leave. You can tell him what happened to today._**

 _No._

 ** _He saw your injury. You could...make the story more juicy._**

"...no..."muttered Damian.

"What," said Mr. Foley, his attention now back on Damian.

"Nothing...I said nothing."

"This is why you must leave or he will only say nothing, literally."

"Damian will feel more comfortable if I stay here, right Damian?"

 ** _No. Make him leave!_**

 _No._

 ** _Yes._**

 _NO._

 ** _YES. You can tell him everything. Tim and his stupid book. Bruce hitting you. Your pathetic life._**

 _Pathetic? I am not._

Both Bruce and Mr. Foley were staring at him.

"Damian?" said Bruce.

 _ **Yes you are. But you don't have to be. Not anymore. Just make Bruce leave...for good.**_

 _What?_

 ** _Kill him._**

 _WHAT?_

 ** _It will be easy. You could kill Mr. Foley too._**

 _Your insane._

"Damian?" Mr. Foley asked.

 _ **Kill him.**_

 _No._

 ** _Come on. Give in to it. It will be easy and fun. Do it._**

 _...shut up..._

 ** _You could kill everyone. The blood. The fun, Oh! It would be sooo much fun!_**

 _Shut up!_

 ** _Hahaha! Think of all the possibilities! Ruler of a world of slaves. Where you could get what you want-_**

 _You don't know what I want!_

 ** _and your Father would be dead. Just take the cup and throw it at him. Choke him. Shoot him. Make his blood spill like a fountain. Make him pay. MAKE THEM ALL PAY. HAHA. IT WOULD BE SO MUCH FUN JUST DO IT!_**

"SHUT UP!" Damian stood up! His breathing labored he found everyone was staring at him, even Alfred.

Mr. Foley stood up. "I think we've had enough. I will see myself out." He exited, the only one with a calm look on his face. Both Alfred and his Father stared at him with concern written all over their faces. Then Damian noticed Tim in the corner, his mouth ajar.

Damian stared at the floor before running out of the room even with his head pounding.


	5. See you again

Running out of the room, Damian hadn't realized that he had bumped into Mr. Foley until he was on the ground.

"Owww...," Damian moaned as he touched his head.

"Are you alright?" Mr Foley bent down on his knees. "Damian?"

"I think I'm okay." Damian continued to rub his head.

Mr. Foley stared at him for a moment until Alfred and Bruce showed up with them.

"Sir, I can show you out."

"In a moment," Mr. Foley quickly responded, "Damian, how many fingers am I holding up." He held up 2 fingers.

Damian squinted his eyes in concentration.

"6."

"Hahah," Bruce intervened, "He's just joking."

"How many now?" He put down one of his fingers.

"You need to hold up your hand for me to count." Damian gave him a confused look as he said this.

"Okay, Damian is just messing with you. Come on Damian, lets leave this nice man alone."

"You fell off your bike, correct?"

"Yes, he did," Bruce added.

"If this is so, then how did you hit both your face and the back of your head."

"He didn't hit the back of his head-"

"Yet he was rubbing it in pain..."

"Mr. Foley-"

"Excuse me, I have to make a call."

Bruce shot Damian an angry glare while Damian turned away. He just wanted to disappear.

Damian sighed. "Can I excused?"

"N-"

"Master Bruce, I think that is a very good idea. You need to freshen up before dinner and Master Bruce and I will see Mr. Foley out," Alfred gave him a smile.

Damian paused. "Alright. Whatever you say then." Damian turned to leave but was stopped by .

"If you ever need anything," Mr. Foley explained, "Call me." He pulled out a bussiness card from his jacket and placed it in Damian's hand. Damian looked up to Alfred who gave him a nod; He left the room while his stomach was doing cartwheels.

Damian made it to his room before collasping on his bed and starting to stare at the ceiling. He heard the soft mumers of conversation, before he entered a daydream. Little did he know what they were saying.

XxxXxxX

"Alright Mr. Foley, the door is this way," Bruce put on his dashing playboy smile while he started to him out.

"Name is Lucifer."

"Oh, Lucifer Foley, interseting name."

"Indeed. Does Damian have any health issues?"

"None that we know of."

"Hmm...," he thought for a moment.

"What?" Bruce inquired.

"Oh. I thought he must surly have depression."

"We would mostly like know if he has dre-"

"Does he spend a lot of time alone?"

"Well, he-"

"When was the last time he saw a Doctor?"

"About 2 months ago." _Or every night..._

"I meant a doctor who can... judge him mentally."

"Excuse me!"

"That can out wrong, but I'm sure you understand." Lucifer pulled out a note pad and pencil. While jotting down some notes, he said, "I can have him in Gotham General tomorrow for a physical and mental check-up."

"Oh no, he doesn't need that."

"Oh, I'm sure he does. Goodbye Mr. Wayne." He disappeared out the front door.

Bruce stared at the door for a moment until Alfred interrupted him, something that has been more common recently.

"Dinner is ready sir, should I call Master Timothy and Master Damian down?"

"Of course." After hearing this, he made his leave until the button on his started blinking. Gotham needed him.

 _Dinner will have to wait._

"Alfred!"

Bruce found him at the base of the stairs.

"Yes, sir."

"Dinner will have to wait." With a flick of a wrist, he showed Alfred the light.

"Ah, you will be finishing your work in the basement. Should I hold dinner?"

"No."

"Both the young masters will want to join you, if they aren't already down there by now."

"Fine. I will go talk to them." Bruce made his way to his study, and made his way down to the Batcave.


	6. Gut feelings

**A/N: I'm think about changing the title and/or summary of this story. I'm very sorry if this inconveniences anyone. Thank you to everyone who has been reading my story. I didn't think this many people would!**

Bruce mumbled to himself as he walked down the stone stairs. _Ugh. What am I going to do about Damian? Was he joking earlier, that whole, 'how many fingers am I holding up?' Maybe I should get him checked out._

He nodded to himself. _Definitely, if he's down here._

He sighed. Something his family has been doing a lot. _Maybe I should try talking to him. His behavior has changed since he has first arrived. Hey, I know, his birthday is in a couple of weeks. I'll get him a present and we'll celebrate and pretend like none of this ever happened...Just me and him. No Tim. I know he hates him. I wish they could get along better._

Bruce made his way to the huge computer, to find Tim already sitting in his chair with his full uniform on. He was slouched, his arms hanging off the sides and his left foot rested on the keyboard. Bruce gave him a glare.

"Where's Damian?"

Tim shrugged as he got off the chair. "I don't know. By the way, who the hell was that guy?"

"You where there...Doesn't matter. Right now Gotham needs us."

"And what about Damian?"

Bruce thought for a moment. _Does he know about what happened earlier?_

"I...I don't...know," he ended pathetically.

It was now Tim's turn to sigh. "Well, he's going to be upset if we leave without him, but it's his fault he's not down here."

"Tim," Bruce warned.

"What?"

"Maybe, tonight, Damian should stay home. Go tell Alfred this-No, I'll do it."

Tim gave him a weird look.

"Get going," Bruce ordered. "Meet me at the Docks. Look for clues, the Scarecrow apparently escaped."

"Umm... right." Red Robin hoped on his bike, and with a soft purr he took off into the night.

 _Oh Damian, What am I going to do with you?_

Bruce quickly made his way back up the stairs, taking them three at time. He was in the kitchen in a matter of minutes; Alfred was cleaning dishes when he noticed Bruce walk in and ideality put the now clean and dry plate in the cupboard.

"Is this about Mr. Foley or Damian?" Bruce shook his head. Alfred knows everything.

"Both. Has he come back down?" Bruce made his way to one of the stools at his personal bar.

"No, but I'm assuming he isn't going out of patrol?"

"Why do you assume that?"

"Well, with a Physical exam tomorrow more bruises will not look all that good."

"And mental," Bruce added.

"With Dr. Leslie, correct?"

Bruce's eyebrows bunched together. "I'm not for sure. He said he was scheduling it."

"Alright. I will make sure it is with Dr. Leslie. Damian will come down for dinner and then right to bed."

 _How can you take care of my son better than I can?_

Bruce was about to get up when Alfred put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back into his seat.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"Master Bruce, I have noticed that Master Damian hasn't been sleeping well lately. I will do my best to make Dr. Leslie the physician to run the test but I am not a miracle worker. Adding fatigue to this list will only make things more complicated. I know Damian isn't a fan of- drugs, but, maybe, in the best interests, you allow me to give him some."

"Like sleeping drugs. To make him fall asleep."

"Yes."

"He wouldn't ever take them."

"Not if he didn't know he was taking them."

Bruce's eyes widened before he chuckled.

"Wow, Alfred. I didn't think you try to pull that kind of stunt. What's your plan?"

"Putting them in his drink. I was thinking about making Tea for him before he goes to bed and put it in there."

Bruce thought for a moment. "Well, if you think it's a good idea. Go for it."

"Alfred, what do you think I should do about Damian?"

"Do you want me to be frank?"

"I don't have any other choice do I?"

"Earlier this morning you handled the situation quite poorly. I wouldn't give specifics, but if you don't know them I wouldn't mind to tell you. Instead of losing your cool, you should have made Tim leave the room to begin with, and should of have Damian sit down and tell you his side of the story. But, you can't change what has happened. I think the best course of action is to talk to the boy, alone. I wouldn't tell you what to say, that is something you must figure out on your own. Also, it wouldn't hurt him to check on his head. It seemed quite awful and must hurt from what I saw."

"I think your holding back on me."

"I am."

Bruce got up to leave.

"Oh, and Master Bruce?"

"Don't think that Master Damian will just forget about it."

"Yeah."

Bruce almost left the kitchen when the phone rang.

"Wayne Manor. This is Bruce Wayne speaking." Alfred watched him from the corner of his eye while he resumed drying dishes.

"Excause me? I can't understand you when you're screaming."

Bruce put the phone on his shoulder. "I think it's for you."

Alfred took the phone with a worried look while Bruce backed up and leaned against the wall.

"Hello?" Alfred's eyes widened.

"My word! Is she alright?"

 _Oh nooo..._ Bruce moaned. If this was about Letty...

"When is the funeral?" Bruce draged a stool from the bar and placed it near Alfred who plopped down. He placed a hand across his forehead and rubbed his temple.

"I...I can be there?" Alfred looked up to Bruce who grabbed the phone.

"Yes. This is he...Yes can be there by tomorrow...of course...you too...Goodbye." He hung up the phone and looked at Alfred who suddenly stoood up.

"Then, I must be get packing." Bruce gave him a nod.

"I'm so sorry, about Letty." Alfred nodded back.

"Does this mean you aren't going on patrol." It was a statement, not a question. Bruce shook his head.

"Good."

"I can call Tim and make sure he knows I won't be joining him...and I guess I have to give Damian the..."

"Yes...sorry Master Bruce...I can do it if-"

"No, I can do it. We need to talk."

While Alfred left the room, Bruce got a werid feeling he couldn't understand.


	7. Naimad

Bruce watched the taxi come up to the drive-way. With a hug, Bruce wished him good-bye and a safe trip. The taxi soon left as quick as it came, only making Bruce sigh.

Shaking his head, he made his way to the batcave to call Tim.

"Batman to Red Robin."

"Red Robin present."

"Come back to base. Circumstances have arised."

"Alright. Is it about the Scarecrow?"

"No. I can explain when you come back."

"Alright. Red Robin out."

 _Damn it. I have to do this quickly...Ugh, I really hope Damian isn't in a mood._ He went back up stairs and walked up to Damian's room. He cleared his throat.

"Um...Damian?"

Bruce listened but got no response. He knocked on the door a couple of times.

"Damian, I'm gonna come in...okay?"

The door slowly creaked opened and Bruce peered in from behind the door.

"Hey, silly, what'cha doing?" Bruce's eyebrows bunched together at the sight he saw. Damian lay on the floor staring at the ceiling.

"Nothin'"

"Nothin'?" Bruce crouched down next to Damian.

Bruce cleared his throat again. "Um...you hungry?"

Damian shrugged.

"Well... um, maybe we could go downstairs and eat, well, if, I...well, downstairs and eat?," Bruce stumbled.

Damian glared into his eyes.

"Naimad said I shouldn't."

"Na-i-mad?"

"Yeah."

"Who is Na-i-mad?"

"Father, it's Naimad."

Bruce shook his head.

"Can you try to eat something? Alfred made chicken that we can re-heat, or we have some fruit."

Damian thought a moment.

"I...can I have the fruits?"

"Yeah."

"Wait, oh, well maybe not. No... I want the fruit?"

"Um..." _What is going on?_ "Yeah, whatever you want."

Bruce reached over and touched Damian's forehead; he heard Damian sigh at the touch. His forehead was boiling.

"Your hand is cool."

"Your forehead is hot."

The both looked at each other, before a small smile reached both of their mouths.

"Lets go downstairs, you can eat something and then up to bed."

Damian slowly got up. Bruce noticed his sluggish movements and frowned. _Is this beacause he is sick or is it because...because... I hit him. I HAVE to say something, but how...should I do it now? Or maybe when he's tired. Yeah. When he's tired._

Shutting Damian's bedroom door, he saw Tim by the hallway.

"Hey, where's Alfred?"

"His cousin, Letty died. He left a little while ago."

"Oh. Um...is ...uhh.. Damian cool?"

"What?"

"He didn't seem cool earlier, like, because I 'tattled' on him."

Bruce gave a chuckle. "Let me get this right. Your asking if Damian is, ,'cool', because you quote, 'tattled'?"

Tim nodded.

"Damian seems..." _What should I say? Is he okay?_ "Damian is, fine. Are you joining us for dinner."

"So...the news was about Alfred?"

"Yea. Dinner?"

"Damian's cool?"

"Yes. Dinner?"

"And-"

"Tim, are you joining us with for dinner?" _What the hell is happening to everyone?_

"Are you feeling alright, Tim?"

Tim shrugged.

"Well, then head up to bed. Damian will go after dinner is done."

"Okay." Tim walked off and Bruce shook his head. _What is up with everyone?_

 **A/N: SAT is this week so I'm gping to try to uppate Saturday or Sunday. Also, I want Talia in this. I don't know when she will come in, but soon. I care about what you guys think so does anyone want to see Nightwing/Dick or Superman/Clark?**


	8. Be kind, then apologize?

Damian was already _sitting_ on one of the bar stools when Bruce entered. His hand was supporting his head, and his eyes slowly opened when he noticed Bruce. With a groan, Damian sat up.

"Fruit, huh?" Bruce asked as he pulled the frigator door ajar. He peered into find bananas, pinapple, and mango. He frowned for a moment then looked back at Damian who didn't reply but continued to frown. Bruce sighed and looked back at the fruit. Suddenly, an idea struck him and he knew how to kill two birds with one stone. He smiled and looked back at Damian.

"How about instead of having plain old fruit, we could mix it up a little?" He grabbed a couple of bananas and the already cut pineapple and mango, and sat them infront of Damian on the counter. Damian gave him a puzzled look.

"What do you mean?"

"We could have smothies instead. Doesn't that sound good?" Bruce asked.

Damian shrugged.

"Well then, you're going to have to help me." Bruce took down a cutting board and a dulled knife; he placed them on the counter and moved the rest of the materials so Damian could have room.

"You can cut the banana." Bruce suggested; Damian stared at the cutting board before he sighed and started to peel the Banana. Bruce let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and found the blender. He plugged it in the wall and put it as close to them as he coud but it was short about a foot. Damian started to drop sliced bananas in while Bruce dropped the recipe he had in mind.

"I'm going to go get the rest of the ingredients; I'll be back." Before he went, he pushed the rest of the fruit by Damian. _He can figure out the ratio because he is going to have to drink it._

Bruce took out a measuring cup and bowl. Grabbing the cup, he measured 4 cups of ice and put it in the bowl.

"Do you have the ice ready?" Damian asked, peering to over the counter to see Bruce.

"Yep." He brought the bowl of ice over to the blender and poured the ice in. "Cover your ears, it's going to be loud at first."

Damian cover both ears while Bruce started the blender. It shook, rattled, and clanked before it started to mix all the ingredients together. Damian's eyes went wide as he watched the blender. That confused Bruce.

"Haven't you ever made a smoothie before?"

"No...I saw Grayson do it once."

"Oh."

"Tt."

The blender finally stopped making audible sounds so Bruce pressed stop.

"I guess this isn't really dinner."

"Tt." Bruce found himself looking at the purple mark on Damian's cheek. He took out two tall glasses and placed them near the sink.

Bruce cleared his throat.

"I wanted to talk to you," Bruce started awkwardly.

"Of course." Damian replied.

"Um, well...I wanted to say..." Bruce poured the mixture into the cups.

"Yes." Damian prompted. Bruce discreetly poured in some crushed melatonin in the smoothie to his right.

"I...wanted...um...to say," Bruce could feel Damian staring at him.

"What?"

"Uh, I found these cute straws!" Bruce blued out two bright pink straws while chuckling nervously. He put the right one infront of Damian.

"And, we can mix the smoothies too! With the straws, I mean. See, like this!" Bruce concentrated as he took the bright pink straw and stirred his smoothie.

Damian gave him a werid look that Bruce couldn't understand.

"Tt." Damian stirred the smoothie.

"Drink it all, okay."

"Okay Pennyworth."

"That's the spirt!" Bruce ruffled Damian's hair.

"Hey!" Damian pushed his hand away while taking a sip from the smoothie.

They both turned away from each other, and a small smiled reached both their lips.

XxxXXxxX

Bruce waited until Damian was done with his smoothie and brought both cups to the sink.

"Alright Damian. Bedtime."

Damian yawned and blinked multiple times in a row.

 _At least it's working..._

Damian swayed side to side, and suddenly started to fall of one side at an alarming rate. Bruce stretched his arms and caught Damian before he could fall.

Bruce carried Damian to bed and tucked him. He watched his sleeping face.

 _I couldn't do it. I couldn't tell him I was sorry._

"Damian," he whispered. Damian didn't move. "...I, I love you."

The sleeping form still didn't move.

Bruce sighed. _I still have all that paperwork I have to do. At least Damian is okay now..._

Bruce didn't realize how wrong his conclusion about Damian was.


	9. Blood

It was in the middle of signing papers and taking a sip if coffe Bruce heard the scream. Not a shriek, like when a middle school girl gets asked out by her crush, or when someone sneaks up behind you and whispers, "Boo."

It was a bloody murder scream.

Bruce never heard anything like it in his life. Not when his mother and father fell; not when Dick screamed on the platfrom reaching for his falling parents. Not Jason came back to life, grasping out of the Lazris Pit; not when Tim was screaming, pounding on his mother's grave. No, this was different.

A spine shaking shiver ran though Bruce's back and he immediately stood up, spilling the coffee on the papers, his laptop, and all over the floor. He didn't care.

Racing up the steps, three at a time, Bruce barged down Damian's bedroom door. The hinge fell off the door leaving the door barely hanging on. He frantically searched the room looking for Damian. He didn't know how, but he knew Damian needed him.

The bed was a mess, blankets everywhere. Bruce squinted his eyes and slowly started to walk to the out of place sheets. He started to smell that too familiar odor and his heart started to race. His breathing increased and with a shaky hand he reached for the small comforter. With a huge gulp, Bruce clutched it and pulled back.

Blood was everywhere.

The odor was so strong he couldn'd breathe. Gagging, he started to lose sensation in his body. _Where is Damian? Was he kidnapped? Is he okay? Is he hurt? Who did this? Why? Who's blood is this?_

Bruce's mind was racing until as he was still scanning the room he found the bathroom door. It was shut, but the strong odor of blood came from it. From the bottom, lite pink blood water came trickling onto the white carpet.

"..." Bruce couldn't speak. His hand was shaking so hard his whole body started to move with it. He reached for the doorknob. He could only hear his heart beat pounding in his head. He closed his eyes and pushed the door open.

Red was everywhere. On the walls, ceiling, and floor. But most of all, on Damian. Damian layed in the tub, his eyes closed and lips slightly ajar.

"DAMIAN!" Bruce ran to Damian as fast as he could. He quickly shut the running water and stared at the red water settling in the bottom of the tub.

"Damian! DAMIAN!" He reached into the water with a cringe and pulled him out of the tub. Damian was completely naked and blood everywhere. He set him down on the flooded tile floor.

"Damian?" Bruce's voice was shaking.

"Damian...DAMNIT ANSWER ME!" He felt for a pulse and found on.

"Bruce?" Tim peered into the bathroom before his eyes widened. "Bruce!"

"Call an ambulance!" Bruce screamed as he sobbed. Then he fliped over Damian's arms to see too deep of cuts on both his wrist.

A/N: Sorry for late update! Please give me feed back!


	10. Rooms

**A/N:WOW. I can't believe the respond I am getting. It has been a long time since I updated and to be honest this was only a drabble until I logged into my email to see all the reviews and followers. THANK YOU! You are why I am doing this. I feel so inspired right! Hey! Leave a comment what you think should happen next! ;) Love you all! Enjoy (Yes. I am smiling like an idiot right now...) P.S.: Kinda a filler chapter. Don't be mad! D:**

It was a long night. Not only were both Tim and Bruce in shock but trying to explain the little they knew to the paramedics. The paramedics took one look at the bathroom and they knew they had trouble. Soon after car after car drove down the long paved road. The police and CPS showed up, including . The unanswered questions and shock stayed in both of their heads as they followed the ambulance to the ER.

Bruce couldn't remember getting into the car. His eyes stayed on the flashing lights before him as he dazed. He didn't hear or see Tim puck into a bag next to him. When he opened his eyes again they were in a different room.

People were sitting all around them. They were the same blank face he did.

Then the wait. Tim's eyes started to slowly close only for him to shake his head and try to open his eyes wide. His head slowly made his way onto Bruce's shoulder. He didn't have the heart to move. Bruce felt the slow inhale and exhale of his second youngest. Bruce sighed. He couldn't feel anything...yet he found the breathe comforting. He was numb. He couldn't think. Only when he blinked again he tried to get his mind started. He decided to pass the time. Bruce counted all the titles on the ceiling three times, spelled words backwards in his head, read all the magazines, wondered, flirted with some nurse who told him nothing, wondered again, and wondered another time. But this time he didn't come out of the daze and into a trap into his own mind.

 _Why wwould Damian do this? Did Damian do this...?It had to been him...right? Oh, what am I going to tell Alfred? Oh god, or Dick? He's going to flip!_

 _But...but...but..Why?! WHY?!_

Bruce stared straight ahead.

A women with a stiff upper lip and hair in a tight bun approached them. Her lipstick with worn and some of her mascara was under both eyes.

"Are you Bruce Wayne?"

Bruce's head shot up with a jerking momentum causing Tim to sit up.

"Yes." Bruce stood up. Tim did they same while rubbing his eyes.

"Please follow me." She promptly turned on her heels and began to walk.

"Your son has lost a lot of blood. We had to given him a blood transfusion of over a gallon..."

They walked pasted the different rooms, each a window into someone else's life.

"...he was very hydrated and was running a fever of 107. That is unusually high..."

A quick glance as they walked Bruce saw an empty bed. There was a women with a wrinkly face who patted her eyes with a cloth staring at the empty space.

"...slits on both his wrist and legs. They cuts on his wrist were extremely deep. The wounds is infected along..."

They pasted a bench in the middle of the hall. A small boy sat in the middle. An older man sat on the very edge while the other women sat on the very edge on the other side. They had their backs facing each other. The mad had his eyebrows knitted while making wild gestures over the phone. The women glared at the wall with her arms crossed. The boy keep looking back and forth.

"...he will need to be in ICU for a least 3 days. We are unable to find..."

Another room was passed. A young women smiling holding a bundle of blankets. A man smiling over her shoulder. They both then stared into each others eyes. The man gave the women a kiss on the check before they both started to stare at the bundle once more.

"...CPS has already contacted us. You understand that now they will have to..."

The next room had a bald child. He wore an oversized hospital gown while watching cartoons on a small television in the corner. Little did he hear the whispers of 'terminal'.

"...is his room. Please don't wake him if he isn't already up." Without asking for questions she left as quickly as she came.

For a moment Bruce wondered if the story in this door will be as easy as the other. Not waiting any longer, he opened the door to see his son.


	11. Authors NoteI'm back!

Hey everybody!

Yes I'm back! I'msooo sorry that I lost my password. But I found it so I'm once again working on this story! Yay! So thank you for staying with me and I'm going to update hopefully next week! (I wrote the password down so I won't forget it)

Let me know what you want to happen and thanks to all who have reviewed. I do try to take your suggestion and put them in the story.

See you next week with an updated chapter that will replace this

Bye!

XOXO Kenzie


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